raising kids

Community

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Community; a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals.

Life sometimes becomes so busy and hard that I have learned to take a step back and let the dust settle when I feel like I am one step too close to the edge. At least that is what has been going on in my world. While most things in my life are extraordinarily amazing, some of it has been equally stressful and emotional. I know that the best thing for me to do is get outside, get my hands dirty, and be productive. Some people freeze under stress and I am the exact opposite. The more I can accomplish in a day when I feel like I am going to explode, the better I feel. Not sure what that coping strategy might fall in the fight/flight/freeze realm, but getting stuff done is where I cope.

Literally a month ago I softly uttered the words —maybe I should open up one of my Fridays to see more students since my schedule is so packed and the demand is so great. Within a week of saying that a huge agency asked if I could add TEN memory care assisted living homes to my already swamped schedule. Sometimes when we speak something vague the universe hears it and runs with it! There is no way I could do ten homes in one day, so I chose to go from zero teaching on Fridays to every Friday teaching in four homes. And, another local agency serving adults with traumatic brain injuries doubled their services with me.

Wow.

Last week was my first week of doubled time locally and full days on Friday. I am going to be honest….by Friday at 3pm I decided that if I had to say “take a breath in and blow out a candle” one more time I was either going to lose my mind or cry.

Complicate my exhaustion of driving over 850 miles in four days, teaching 18 hard classes, and dealing with constant pain, I also needed to step up in the mom arena these last couple weeks. For the record, when a young mom complains of the demands of a toddler I kindly tell them to fasten their seatbelt because being a parent to an adult child is one of the hardest things you’ll ever go through. You have to trust that your wisdom will be heard and accepted–much different than putting them in PJ’s and sending them to bed at 7pm.

I realized today as I was having my productivity ass kicking session of washing both my cars, planting lettuces, spinach and arugula, trimming trees, fixing fountains, coloring my girls hair, finalizing contracted social media work, and cleaning the house, that I am so grateful for the community that I have.

In hard times it’s great to know that I am surrounded by people who care and are interested in becoming their best selves. If you are a reader of this blog you are either here for amazing recipes, or essential oil uses, or maybe you are here for inspiration and hope. Whatever brings you back, I realize that in a huge way this outlet gives me the support I think I need to carry on.

I also realized today that I have done hard things before. Many times. Whether it is raise three kiddos alone, navigating the unknown territory of developmental disabilities, or building a business from nothing, or leaving a loveless and controlling relationship that gave me financial safety and security to venture out with just a truck full of belongings and start all over at age 43.

I have done hard. And I have not only survived, but I have thrived. I know that this too shall pass with my kid and I will find my rhythm in adding a huge amount of demanding work to my schedule.

After all, I am not alone, right? I know that I have thousands of people all over the world whose energy comes to me through platforms like these and that in my hardest days, I can still feel that energy. Community and feeling connected is where we survive hard times. I know that I cannot do this life alone and continue to make a difference in the lives of others. Isn’t that essence of community anyway?

So, thank you. Thank you for carrying me on the tough days and allowing me an outlet to write, cry, laugh, cook, inspire, create and mostly, to love.

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Someone’s Survival Guide

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I am a super private person and unless you know me really well or catch the occasional revealing posts about my private life, you may not know the whole story.

I am not one to carry on about the past much because I believe what happened is what happened and by perhaps looking through a different lens, I have learned to see the gifts and lessons learned.

Yesterday I had an opportunity to have a very honest and real conversation with a girl I met a few years ago that is entering into a season of her life that includes being a single mom, wondering how she will work, feed her kids and fulfill her deep calling to do what her heart and soul is calling her to do.

I was there.

Eating cheap food to survive, scrambling for a job, yearning for something more and doing the best I knew how with my kids.

I failed a bunch but I also succeeded way more. I evolved into this. I overcame the you obstacles of single parenting and finding myself through the process.

My hope is that I gave this young girl a sense that she WILL be okay and that she WILL find her way and that she WILL succeed in her wildest dreams. She is certainly deserving of it and skilled in many ways.

It felt kinda strange to share my story and see the other side of what overcoming struggles can possibly do for someone just entering that sisterhood.

You just never know how your challenges can help someone else in a time of need.

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Maybe

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Just because someone carries it well doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy. I think that it is pretty likely that each day we hold things in our heart, and sometimes these things become incredibly heavy. But also choosing to carry grace sure lightens that load.

It was on this day that my kids lost their dad forever. It was years before that though they also lost him. I realize that he did the best he knew how to do. It wasn’t ideal by any means, but he did what he knew. And that is okay.

I choose grace.

I choose to hold my head up high. Looking at my grown kids I know that the load I have carried for years was worth every single ounce. My kids are remarkable people and that makes the load all worthwhile.

Someone recently asked me how I got to the point in my process of being able to choose to forgive. And to let go. Well let me first say it wasn’t always easy and there are still times when those feelings of anger or disappoint bubble up, but I try really hard to not allow those heavy feelings to take over. I did a couple years of therapy and I dove into working on myself which invited me to not spend my waking hours fuming about what I didn’t get and instead look at what may have been my part in it all and to be able to learn about perspective.

Divorce takes a little bit of your heart regardless of how amicable it is.

Co-parenting may seem like a great idea, but the truth is finding common ground that works for the kids is even harder when you have two households working. It wasn’t many months after my divorce and my three little kids and I were no longer receiving child support. He didn’t think he needed to and so he chose not to. He also chose to have his visits with the kids shorter and few and far between. The raising of the kids landed solely on my shoulders. It wasn’t just the daily grind, but the big picture things that one parent should never be completely responsible for if the other parent is capable. Or so I used to think.

Maybe he wasn’t capable. Maybe he had no idea how to think beyond himself. Maybe his own heart was shattered and he couldn’t access the part of himself to step up. Who knows.

Within a few years he began to slip into a slow, horrific self-inflicted slow death. He chose to neglect himself. He chose horrible things to do to his body. He chose to give up. Or so I used to think.

Maybe he didn’t know how. Maybe he had something inside him preventing him to get and allow help. Maybe he just couldn’t.

I think about my own father in much the same way. Something in him was missing and he wasn’t able to to plug into being a part of my life. Maybe it was his own addiction or his own beliefs that he had. Maybe he never had a father step up in his own childhood. Maybe he didn’t know how.

When someone asks me how I arrived in a place of peace about my kid’s dad (or my own dad), my simplest answer is that I got tired of allowing all of that pain to take up residence in my heart and preventing me from allowing something much better into my heart, like love. I realized that they both probably never had a father that stuck around. I was able to step back and see that my former husband was a young man with a tremendous amount of responsibility and perhaps he simply could not do it. He was giving all he had to his little family that eventually crumbled in front of him, and maybe it broke him.

I chose to see my father as a lost little boy who had no real father to speak of and an abusive mom. No wonder he was disconnected.

I replaced the feelings of anger and disappointment with compassion and love. Then it was really simple to carry on with a little lighter load in my heart. Being able to do that certainly doesn’t lighten the heaviness of raising three people alone and the huge responsibility that I had, but somehow having a heart full of compassion rather than pain, I was able to move forward and feel good about myself and my kids.

Maybe I will be an example for them.